It's All Just Words
by Echante
Summary: Mark writes Addison a letter... she doesn't know who it's from.


A/N: I'm sorry I haven't been here for awhile. No excuse really. I just stopped being anti-social and realized that I have friends who I'd been neglecting. Anyway. Just wanted to write something, it's not very good but whatever....

* * *

It started with his inherent need to protect her, and hours and hours of him racking his brains to find a way to do so without getting bitch slapped and yelled at. He never really thought that this particular scheme would deliver, but perhaps for the first time in his life his intentions were pure and selfless and he thinks someone is rewarding him for that. He'd sent the first letter a month after she left him for L.A.

_Dear Oblivion,_

_ Who does this find you as? I have found my world crumbling under me and I don't know how to hold it up. A life that I thought had meaning is once again devoid; do you think you can understand? I have no one to write letters to, technology, I have found, has obliterated the past. I guess what I'm saying is I needed a sustaining force so I've written to a random address in search of a kindred spirit. _

_E. E. Cummings _

She never knew that he'd had a poetic side, that he kept a journal that he updated in the dank, dark hours of midnight after she'd fallen asleep. He signed the note with his favorite poet, he'd casually mentioned the name before but he was cynical enough to believe that she wouldn't remember. He'd been surprised when he got a reply a week later.

_Dear Mr. Cummings,_

_ To be honest, the only reason I considered replying was because I approve in your taste of poets, and I've been having similar feelings of depression and misguidance. I'm tired of being misunderstood. It's nice to hear that someone else in the world is too. I feel alone sometimes. So alone and there are so many people around me. Have you ever had that feeling?_

_ Relationships are a problem, and I just got out of what I guess could be described as a continuing on and off relationship that pretty much shook up everything I knew about my life and my desirability. I took a man for granted because I believed that he'd probably betray me anyway. Why was I shocked when he did? Why did it hurt so much? _

_ I don't know if I'm overstepping my boundaries. I don't know what etiquette dictates in this sort of situation. I don't know. But I am intrigued by you dear stranger, and if I haven't scared you off, I wouldn't be opposed to writing you in the old-fashioned sense with the stamps and the ink and the words. I suppose it couldn't be too bad can it?_

_ If you don't unravel I'll try not to._

_Dickenson (Pick one, Emily or Charles) _

The upside of writing her like this is that anonymity allows him access to her emotions when all he'd seen before were actions. He never knew how tortured she was because she'd hidden it so cleverly behind a veil of annoyance and arrogance. He likes learning about her in this intimate way, it makes his heart soar.

_Dear Ms. Dickenson,_

_ I prefer the feminine version because by your rant about men, it seems implies you are indeed female. Do you think there are more people like us? Do you think there are souls wandering down the streets of America wondering why the woods are burning? Do you ever ask yourself who you are? I don't know who I am, I don't think I can know who I am until I find what I'm looking for and I don't even know what I want. Does that make sense? _

_ I do a lot of things I regret. What you have to understand about addiction is that it isn't as simple as dropping something. I have terrible self-control and when you're deprived of something it kills you from the inside out, it's a slow and torturous death. I'm sure whoever it was didn't mean to betray you. It's just that as men, we are weak despite our strength. The trouble is, we don't know who we are, and we can't be happy until we figure that out. In the end we're all simple. We love and are loved because it is the only surprising act left on the planet. The pathway to love is devastating in the absence of it, brutal._

_ I betrayed two people I thought I loved because I thought I was helping them, but in the end I alienated them both. There are always two choices in life and how are we supposed to pick the right one? No matter what decision I make, it always seems like its wrong. Do you have the same problem? _

_E.E._

She smiled a grim smile, when she opened the letter, for some reason, this stranger's words were painful. She fingered the envelope and she felt like she was bleeding. She'd left Noah the other day, in the end he was a dream, they all keep being a dream.

_Dear E.E.,_

_ I am not one to judge. I've destroyed a world and I kept going back to expound on it. I don't think I'm a good person. I'm probably not someone you'd want to talk to; I'm not the best stranger's door to knock on. But if you'll have me, I enjoy our letters._

_ I think I've only ever been understood once in my life. By one person. And he scared me so much so I ignored him. And he saw me, every little bit of me and I hated that. I think I broke his heart but I'm not sure. He seemed happy the last time I saw him. He has a girlfriend. He smiles more often. It was almost a relief to see him again because we strangers that time. He was always the beautiful pretty boy, and I am the nerd. No matter how far I've gone to hide those facts, he always saw me; he always saw who I really was. _

_ I hate who I really am. _

_ I don't understand how every time he looked at me he could see through the shield. No one else ever has. I've pretended to be in love with other men but sometimes I come back to him. I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm going insane._

_ Maybe we're all doomed to hell._

_ Emily._

Interesting. Very Interesting. He was bursting from the seams, he wanted to call her and just beg for her to take him back but he knew that that wasn't likely. He didn't want to blow his cover and she was right. He was in a relationship. He and Derek were getting along. Life was good. He shouldn't leave yet. Not yet. He sighs wistfully, but what he would do to touch that hair just one more time. One more time.

_Emily,_

_ We all destroy worlds once in a while. It's part of who we are. We get jealous, we get envious. We fall in-love. _

_ And maybe the nerd isn't a bad thing to be. Maybe he should be the one who is jealous about your awesomeness (is that a word?). I don't have any advice for you in the man department, does follow your heart sound too cliché? I'm here for you. That's all I can offer._

_ Today I learned that second beginnings are better than firsts. Well not today but recently I made up with my best friend, who I'd been having a fight with. I forgot how good it feels to have that someone who's always there. You forget a lot of things after you don't know them for awhile. _

_ We all hate who we are. Emily Dickenson hated herself so much she wouldn't talk to the outside world. That's part of human nature. We aren't meant to be perfect and the beauty of growing up is that we can shed who we once were, we can become someone different. _

_ Anyway, I hope it doesn't get you too down. _

_E.E._

She holds the torn envelope in her hands for a silent moment, her eyebrows raise for a second before she shakes her head. 'It fucking can't be,' she thinks and then shrugs. She's tired of Pete and Sam and Naomi, she's too fucking tired. 'It's mighty similar,' she thinks but then closes her eye, life doesn't work that way. For now, she'll go to sleep.

_E.E.,_

_ Is it weird that I feel safe when I talk to you? I find it weird. I really should feel the opposite of that seeing as you are a stranger and have my address now, and thus can probably stalk me. But I feel safe. That isn't an invitation to become a serial killer and hack away at my body now. I just… I like the way you talk to me. You don't condescend. There's no pretension with you. No bullshit. _

_ Believe me, I was the worst sort of nerd. The sort of nerd that was so bad, that it carries over into my future. Follow your heart does sound a bit cliché, but hey, it the shoe fits__ It's interesting, because I chose Dickenson because she reminds me of some of my own inclinations sometimes. I love people, but there are days when I want to scream at the world and shut them out. The door isn't thick enough to hold the people out of my life and it seems like I've been living in a soap opera lately. _

_ And you're right, we aren't meant to be perfect. Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm sure you're a good person._

_Emily._

He fingers her words and cradles them gently. She hadn't written for awhile, after he'd left her in L.A. but he can't help but feel the impending doom expound on him every day. He made the wrong choice. He made the wrong choice. He made the wrong choice.

_Emily,_

_ You should feel safe. I mean for you to feel safe. It feels good to be needed by you. When I was younger, no one ever really cared what I did, or who I did it to. No one thought I was safe. You are a shelter for me. You're my lighthouse. _

_ I feel the same way too now, you know? When you tell me your pain, it's as if I can feel it, when I see the teardrops dried on the paper, I want to wipe them away. You've been my savior as much as I've been yours. _

_ I'll make this brief. Today, I discovered that I know too much about regret. I did something with what I thought was a good motivation, and then I regretted it every step of the way back. It's a terrible thing, not being able to erase time. I wish I could. I would. I would if I could._

_E.E._

The tears pool in her eyes as she shakes her head back and forth and draws a shaky breath. She dials the telephone and wipes her eyes. "Hello?" The voice on the other end says.

"Mark," she sighs, "I need you to stop writing because I think I'm falling in love with you again."

She hangs up without hearing his reply.

The first thing he does is to drive to the airport. The entire journey to L.A. is a dream-like sequence and he doesn't remember much, he just knows that he's standing in front of her door, prepared to knock.

She opens the door with red eyes and he smiles at her. She reaches out to him and pulls him into a hug. They cry together, wrapped up in each other's arm until she pulls away and kisses him. "You're never leaving me again." She says desperately clawing at his arms.

"I'll never try."

The door closes on the final chapter and the world returns to harmony.

A/N: Haha, slipped in references to E.E. Cummings, Emily Dickenson, Author Miller, Valentine's Day, and Remi. God. I hate the story line that going on in PP right now. Sam or Pete? How about NEITHER.


End file.
